FACE Café
by IcedFireFrenzy
Summary: In the hopes of bringing together the nations, the FACE family has decided to create a café where the burdens of being a nation can be temporarily forgotten. Friendships and hardships will occur, but the happiness will triumph, as well as Ancient Rome and Austria's music for the café.
1. The Idea

_**Hey guys, IcedFireFrenzy here with my first Hetalia fic! I admit, I don't especially know where this will go, but I've had this idea stuck in my head for a little bit and I needed to write it down before I forget it.**_

 _ **Since I am somewhat new to the Hetalia fandom, there will be some OOC-ness, and I apologize in advance for that.**_

 _ **Anyway, I hope you enjoy!**_

* * *

"You know, I can't believe we're gonna open our own café!" America shouts to England France, and Canada. The four are sitting around a table at America's house, currently missing a G8 meeting. "This is gonna be _so_ rad, bros!"

"I am not your _bro_ ," England states bitterly. "Also, would stop being so loud? People on Mars could hear you."

"Youre hurting our ears," Canada mumbles, tightening his hold on Kumajiro.

"Who are you?" England and said bear ask simultaneously.

"He's Canada, mes amis*," France answers.

"Vous pouvez me voir*?" asks Canada.

"Oui. Alzhough you do look like Amérique*, your face is a bit rounder and your hair is slightly longer."

"Now that you mention it, I _can_ see some differences," England muses aloud, his thumb and index finger rubbing his chin.

"Guys, we need to focus on our café," America says, putting the conversation back on track. "There are so many questions that need to be answered, such as where the café will be, what we'll serve, what music will play in the background, and stuff like that."

"Wow, someone's being serious," England tuts.

"Obviously, it's not you," France shoots.

"A gentleman is always serious!"

"Whatever you say, Brit."

"Seriously people, or countries, I don't know, we need to focus up! If we're going to do this, we need to work together!" America shouts angrily. "Look, I really like the idea of us doing a project like this. Not only could it make us some money, but we could bring all the countries together!"

"But will our bosses approve of it?" Canada asks skeptically.

"To hell with our bosses here!" The countries' eyebrows shoot up from the blonde's sudden outburst. "Just imagine a place where all rivalries can be temporarily forgotten over a cup of coffee or a pastry."

"Does that include your... issues with Russia?" France inquires.

"Yeah, I suppose," America replies reluctantly after a short pause. "But seriously, how'd you guys like to forget all of your troubles for a short amount of time, and actually feel like a human, rather than a country carrying the burdens of your people?" No one responded for a short while, all of them in deep thought.

"Wow," England exhales, "for once, America actually said something thoughtful."

"Oui*," France says disbelievingly.

"It's possible guys," America dismisses casually. "So, are you guys with me for real?"

"Yes," the other blonds say at the same time.

"Now that we've got that settled, let's move on to the more pressing matters of our café! Do you guys have any ideas for a name yet?"

"You didn't think of one?" the Brit asks incredulously.

"Not really."

"Mon dieu*," Canada facepalms, careful not to drop Kumajiro.

"Indeed," France seconds.

"What kind of name would you like?" England asks the American.

"I don't know, anything really," America thinks aloud. "Something family friendly but unique all at once."

"Hmm, what about 'FACE,' with all capital letters?" France suggests.

"Why 'FACE' exactly?" England inquires.

"Well, it's unique, appropriate, and with the capital letters, it could represent us as well."

"How would it represent us?" America gently demands.

" 'FACE' would be an acronym that would stand for our names."

"Hey, that's a good idea!" Canada exclaims.

"Who are you?" asks Kumajiro.

"I'm Canadia," Canada sighs sadly.

"So, do we all agree on 'FACE Café'?" America asks, ignoring Canada.

"I agree with you for a change," England admits.

"As do I," says France.

"Well, there's one thing out of the way!" America exclaims happily, his trademark smile growing. However, his smile fades when he begins to remember something. "Hey guys, did we have a meeting today?"

"We did, but you said that we had to meet immediately come to your house to discuss what would be our café," England answers.

"Oh yeah," Canada mutters distantly. At that exact moment, France's phone goes off, Italy's version of 'Mawaru Chikyuu Rondo' playing as his ringtone.

"Allô? Ah, bonjour Italie, comment ça va?*" France greets. "Wait, wait, let me put you on speaker." The Frenchman removes the phone from his ear, presses the speaker button, and puts the phone on America's table. "Hello again!"

" _Ve~? Oh hi-ya, France! Where were you, England, America, and the other guy? Germany was really upset about you missing the meeting about global warming. Seriously, I can see him seething while he's driving,_ " Italy rambles. " _Do you want me to put him on-a speaker?_ "

"Sure?" America answers hesitantly, a frown masking his face.

" _Germany, is it okay if I put you on-a speaker?_ " The countries could hear the German growl dangerously through France's phone. " _Okay, I'm about to put on speaker! Just give me one moment!_ " The Italian hums for a short amount of time before he puts on the speaker. " _Ve~, there we go! Germany, we're on!_ "

" _Gut,*_ " Germany growls. " _Now, vould you dummkopfs like to tell me vhy you decided to skip zhe meeting?_ "

"Well, I sort of had this idea to share with these guys that wasn't really about global warming," America begins, "and I may or may not've forgotten that we had a meeting."

" _HOW IN ZHE HELL DO YOU FORGET ABOUT AN URGENT MEETNG?!_ " He was responded by a pregnant silence. " _VELL?_ "

"No one really remembers me, so it didn't really make much of a difference," Canada mumbles.

" _Who vas zhat?_ "

"Canada."

" _Oh, okay zhen. But next veek, ve vill be having a vorld meeting, and since you guys found it better to blow off a meeting to talk about some project, you can mention it to everyone zhere! Understand?_ "

"Yes," the four countries groan.

" _Is that all-a, Germany?_ " Italy asks innocently, only to hear a grunt. " _Yup, that's all from-a Germany. Hasta la pasta!_ "

"Bye-bye!" America shouts, his shoulders slumping after Italy hangs up. "Welp, there goes our secret project."

"Wait, I thought that you wanted it to be shared amongst the others," England counters.

"I did, _after_ everything was settled!"

"Look, we have until next week to settle this, so let's get to work!"

"Yeah! And as the hero, we'll get through this easily!"

"Yeah!" France shouts excitedly, fist pumping the air. However, his face quickly shows his confusion over America's hero comment. "Wait, how will you being a hero make this go by easily?"

"'Cause being a hero does that, you know?" America replies, shrugging. France facepalms in response.

"Look, arguing isn't going to get us anywhere, so let's talk aboot the location of the place, eh?" Canada reasons, bringing a new topic to the table.

"I agree with Canadia here," says America, who earns a half-hearted glare from his brother.

"So, where will it be, exactly?" asks England.

"I don't know," Canada admits. "I'll be right back; I'm gonna get a globe to spin, and when I put my finger on the globe, whichever country is under my finger will be our country's location."

"What about the city?"

"It could be either the capital or a small city."

"Oui, zhat could work," France muses.

"Great, now I'll be back in a jiffy!" Canada leaves for a minute before returning with a relatively new globe. "America, you want to do the honors of spinning the globe?"

"Will I?" America accepts happily, walking up to Canada and the globe. He puts his index finger on the globe, spinning it lightly in one direction before fully spinning the other way. Watching it spin for a few seconds, his finger steadily reaches for the globe until he touches and stops it.

"So, where will our café be?" England inquires.

"It will be here..."

* * *

 _ **Ah, the classic cliff hanger! Don't worry though; the next chapter will reveal the country chosen by America!**_

 _ **Translations (those not in French will be noted):**_

 _ **Mes amis= my friends**_

 _ **Vous pouvez me voir?= You can see me?**_

 _ **Oui= Yes**_

 _ **Amérique= America**_

 _ **Mon dieu= My God**_

 _ **Allô? Ah, bonjour Italie, comment ça va?= Hello? Ah, hello Italy, how are you?**_

 _ **Gut= Good (German)**_

 _ **Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this chapter!**_


	2. The Calls and the Blackmail

_**Hello, world!**_

 _ **I want to thank Elricgurl for her follow and review, FlaviaSatie for her favorite and follow, and the Silver Magician of Chaos and Kasi-Nee-Chan for their favorites! You guys (and the rest of my readers) are awesome!**_

 _ **Enjoy!**_

* * *

"It will be... here," America says once his finger touches the globe. "The café will be in Sealand."

"Sealand?" the other three ask incredulously.

"I will not accept that!" angrily shouts England.

"Ah, come on Iggy, lighten up on the poor thing," America says, feeling rather sympathetic toward the micro-nation. "It's bad enough that you won't recognize him, so the least you could do is let him have this." The Brit gives him a cold glare for his words, but when he is about to respond, Canada speaks up instead.

"Well, I think we should try spinning it again."

"What? Why?"

"Mostly because of the scenery and how awkward it could be to travel there. Besides, I'm sure the very few citizens there would not appreciate a sudden flood of countries to mess up the place."

"I'm agreeing with Canada here," England admits.

"I'm with Canada here aussi.*" France states.

"Ugh, fine," America reluctantly submits. With his shoulders currently slumped, he puts his finger back on the globe and spins it. After a few seconds, he stops the globe, his fingers on a country in Europe.

"Which pays* did you finger land on?" France asks.

"It landed on..." he pauses to read the country's name, "Austria."

"Austria," Canada says thoughtfully. "Hey, if we can manage to get him to agree to have the café there, do you think we could get him to play the piano as background music?"

"He might, especially if we get him a custom piano!" England replies gleefully. "Now, does anyone have his number?"

"Non,*" France answers, "but I do have a photo of him standing next to me in ma portefeuille.*"

"That does not help us in the least."

"I've got Prussia's number, if that helps," Canada contributes.

"That might work!" America exclaims. "He's always bothering Austria about one thing or another. He even has some embarrassing photos and videos of him!"

"And you'd know this because?" asks England.

"We hang out every other Friday at Denmark's house for drinks and being awesome."

"I've probably seen some of those photos as well; Prussia, Spain, and I meet at my house every third Saturday to wreak havoc on the world!" France adds.

"And what does this have to do with Canada having Prussia's number?" England asks, slightly exasperated at how far off the conversation has gotten.

"I don't know, but should I call him now?" Canada replies, hoping to receive an answer.

"Yeah, go ahead America."

"But I'm Canada."

"Just call him, Canadia." With that, Canada dejectedly takes out his phone to call his friend.

" _Hallo?*_ " Prussia answers.

"Hello Prussia, it's Canada. Everyone, say hi!" The other blonds begrudgingly do as they're told, feeling like children again.

" _Oh, hey birdie! Who's vith you at zhe moment?_ "

"France, England, and America."

" _Awesome. I mean, not as awesome as me, of course, but awesome enough. So, vhy did you guys call exactly?_ "

"Well, we wanted to know if you have Austria's number," America answers for the group.

" _Of course I do, I'm awesome that vay! But vhy do you need the young master's number?_ "

"Personal reasons," England hastily replies.

" _Nope, not accepting that,_ " Prussia says stubbornly. " _Give me a real reason, or else you von't get zhe number._ "

"That is _so_ UNAWESOME, bro!" America groans, his elbow on his knee and his head in hand.

" _I'm still vaiting,_ " the albino tauntingly says.

"Fine," the American caves. "The four of us are going to create a café for all of the nations to come and let loose. We will serve pastries and beverages from all over the world, and we will have free WiFi for the tech-savvy nations to surf whatever they'd like, as long as it's family friendly to prevent having countries like Liechtenstein being traumatized."

"Attend*, I don't remember discussing zhat at all," France admits.

"Neither do I," England adds.

"What? I like to have plans," America replies to the rivals. "Going back to what I was saying, the café will be like Switzerland: a place of neutrality where streaking is not allowed!" Prussia snorts at the blonde's comment.

" _And vhat vill zhe café be called?_ " asks the red-eyed nation.

" 'FACE Café,' " France answers.

" _'FACE Café'? Vhy_?"

" 'FACE' is an acronym for France, America, Canada, and I," England explains simply.

" _Zhat's cute, but vhy do you need Austria's number? You four never quite answered zhe awesome me._ "

"Well, we weren't sure where the location of our café would be, so we got a globe and spun it until America would stop it with his index finger. Wherever his finger was would be the country where FACE Café would be built," Canada explains.

" _Und let me guess; his finger landed on Austria._ "

"Yup," says America, leaving out the fact that Sealand was actually where his finger originally landed.

" _Hmm, intriguing. Fine, since you gave me your story, I'll text Birdie his number after the call is over._ "

"Thanks, bro!" America shouts.

" _You're velcome,_ " Prussia says before hanging up. Unbeknownst to the FACE family, their project was being posted onto the albino's blog.

* * *

"You know, it's been a little while since we talked with Prussia," England begins, "and he said that he would text Canada Austria's number. So why hasn't he texted us yet?"

"I dunno," America shrugs. "Maybe he forgot or something."

"Hey guys," Canada mutters, somehow managing to capture the others' attention, "Prussia posted our project onto his blog."

"WHAT?! That bastard!"

"Calm down, Amérique," France suggests to the seething blond. "None of us are happy about it, but there's nothing we can do about it." The American was about to respond when Canada's phone begins to ring.

"Who is it?" asks America.

"It's an unknown number," Canada replies.

"Well, answer it," says England.

"Allô?" Canada says into the phone.

" _Hello? Is zhis America?_ " the unknown person asks.

"No, this is Canada."

" _Canadia?_ "

"I'm America's brother."

" _Eh, close enough. Anyvay, I vant to know vhy you, America, France, and England plan to have a 'come one, come all nations' café in my country without my permission?_ "

"Austria?" the Canadian asks.

"Austria called you?" America shouts in the background.

" _Who's zhat in zhe background?_ "

"America," Canada answers. "Attendez*, let me put you on speaker really quickly for the others in the room."

" _Wait, who else is vith yo-_ "

"Hey Austria!" America says loudly.

" _Oh, hello America,_ " the Austrian grumbles. " _Vould you like to explain zhis predicament to me?_ "

"Actually, we want to know how you figured out about it," England counters. "I mean, the only place we know anyone can now find it is on - wait a minute, do you read Prussia's blog?" The Brit does not receive a response.

"Mon dieu, he did!" France says in realization. "I zhought you didn't like zhe Prussian. Ohonhonhon~, zhis is excellent!"

" _I don't like the Prussian nor your tone here,_ " Austria says cautiously.

"How is this excellent?" Canada asks the Frenchman, who whispers his reason. "Ah."

"What did you tell him?" America asks France, who also whispers his reason to him. The American begins to laugh and say, "Bro, that _is_ awesome!"

"What are you gits on about now?" asks the Englishman.

" _I vould like to know as vell,_ " the Austrian says impatiently.

"We could use you reading Prussia's blog against you as blackmail if you refuse to let us set up our café in your country," France answers.

" _You don't even know I have read his blog!_ "

"Well, according to the visitors list on his blog, someone named PianoMan976 read the blog twenty minutes ago, as well as me, SeaNation, ScandinavianKing, and TomatoBastard have visited his blog. We're going to assume that you are PianoMan976," Canada says after reading a recent visitors list on Prussia's blog.

" _You don't even know that I have an account._ "

"And since when can you see who's visited your blog?" asks America.

"He trusts me a little too much with his StarCounter," Canada simply replies.

"Creepy," England mutters.

"Tell that to him when he's drunk. Also, Austria, I'm gonna say that you have an account because of your username. Seriously, 'PianoMan976'? Do I need to explain that to you?" All of the countries paused at the normally silent country's rant.

"Dayum," America whispers, "Canada just went off on you."

"Okay, let's say you _don't_ have an account," France begins.

"Even though you totally do," Canada interrupts.

"I have another way to blackmail you."

" _Oh?_ " Austria questions nervously.

"I have a video of you reacting to Hungary and Japan's fanfic collection."

"Oh, I think I saw that!" America exclaims. "Was that the one where he was reading a threesome fic that included him, Hungary, and Prussia?"

"Oui," France answers. "Ohonhonhon~, his reaction was priceless! His face of fifty shades of green!" Both countries begin to laugh and clutch their stomachs, leaving the other two countries in the room shocked and confused.

"What the hell?" England whispers to Canada, who merely shrugs in response.

" _Fine, I'll let have your café in my country. In which city do you want your café to be?_ "

"Mariazell," America hastily replies. On the other side of the call, Austria's face begins to pale. "Bro, I can _hear_ your face drain!"

" _Anywhere but Mariazell._ "

"Pourquoi*?" asks France.

" _My curl will become curlier._ " America begins to laugh again. " _Really?_ "

"It's funny," the American replies after calming down and wiping away a tear from his eye. "But if you don't let us build our café in Mariazell, we _will_ post that video on YouTube."

" _Fine,_ " Austria sighs hesitantly.

"Yay!" the Amerian shouts childishly. "The hero wins again!"

" _Do you really have to be that bad?_ "

"Uh, yeah bro!"

" _Ugh, I'm hanging up now so I can play some Chopin. Goodbye._ " With that, the room is filled with emptiness, until America once more begins to laugh.

"What _now_ , America?" asks England.

"I remember the username TomatoBastard! Did Spain actually create that?"

"No, Romano hacked his account and changed it," France answers.

"Changed it from what?" Canada asks.

"You don't even want to know, ohonhonhon~!"

"Well, that's one more thing done," England says, ignoring the other countries. "We just need to go to Austria and plan out everything else."

"Thankfully, the world meeting will be in Vienna," America adds, "making everything easier for the hero!"

"Should we get packing, then?" Canada inquires.

"Absolutely, America," England replies.

"I'm Canada."

"Whatever, Canadia."

* * *

 _ **Translations:**_  
 _ **Aussi = also**_  
 _ **Pays = country**_  
 _ **Non = no**_  
 _ **Ma portefeiulle = my wallet**_  
 _ **Hallo = hello (German)**_  
 _ **Attend, attendez = wait**_  
 _ **Pourquoi = why**_


	3. The Names and the Arrivals

_The Next Night..._

"Ugh, I can't believe what I've gotten myself into," Austria mutters to himself. Currently, he's pacing by his front door, waiting for four certain blonds to show up.

"Aww, calm down Austria," Prussia begins, appearing out of nowhere and startling the poor Austrian, "I'm sure everyzhing vill be _just_ fine."

"I heavily doubt zhat." At that moment, Prussia's phone goes off, 'America (Fuck Yeah)' filling the room. "Hallo?"

"I take it zhat's America?" Prussia hastily nods at the Austrian's question before going back to his conversation.

"Hey America, vhere are you? Oh, your plane is still on zhe Tarmac? Okay, vhen should ve be seeing you? You don't know... Fine, I'll tell him when ve're done, okay? Bye!" Prussia ends the call and puts his phone into his pants pocket. When he looks up, he sees a slightly anxious look on the Austrian.

"Vell, vhat vas zhat about?"

"America vill be late," says Prussia, "for his plane is on zhe Tarmac in Vienna. He doesn't know vhen he'll arrive, but he says that it should be soon."

"Mein _Gott!_ He's going to drive me insane!" Austria shouts. "How do you put up vith him?"

"Like how I put up vith you, _Roddy._ " Austria's head sharply moves to look in Prussia's direction, glaring dangerously at the Prussian. "Kesesesesese~, you're so cute vhen you're angry. Look, your glasses are beginning to fog!"

"I hate you _so_ much right now." the Austrian says after looking at and cleaning his fogged glasses.

"No one can hate zhis awesomeness!"

"Vell, consider me zhe first."

"Do I have to invade your vital regions again?"

"Ohonhonhon~!" a familiar laugh fills the room, followed by a shriek from Austria. "You guys are so cute together!"

"France?" Prussia asks, looking all over the room. His eyes eventually settle on a couch that is currently occupied by Hungary and somehow France. "France! How'd you get in here?"

"Ask 'er," the Frenchman replies curtly, jabbing his thumb at Hungary.

"Well, I got another message from God to hit France with a frying pan again the next time I saw him, and for some reason," Hungary pauses to glare at France, "he decided to surprise me by coming in through the window. Thankfully, I had my frying on me-"

"You always have your frying pan on you," Prussia interrupts.

"You wanna be next?" Prussia hastily shakes his head in response. "Thought so. As I was saying, I had my frying pan on me, and I used it to clobber him. Next thing I knew, he was out cold on the floor. Shortly afterwards, I remembered that he had to meet with Mr. Austria, so I tried to drag him down here a couple of minutes ago, but he woke up when we were almost in the living room."

"Elle est forte,*" France interrupts, receiving another glare that he chose to ignore.

"Thankfully, he didn't cause me too much trouble when he came to, but I still dragged him down here. Once we were in the living room, we sat on the couch and watched your interactions."

"You've been _spying_ on us zhis whole time?" Austria shouts, his left eye twitching.

"Oui," France replies, shrugging.

"Knock knock knock knock!" someone says, an actual knocking sound accompanying it.

"Who is it?" asks Austria.

"It's Canada," the country whispers.

"Who?"

"It's Birdie!" Prussia responds, walking up to the front door. He opens the door to find a jet-lagged Canada with a few pieces of luggage.

"Hey Prussia," Canada yawns. "How are you?"

"I am Awesome, zhank you very much!" Prussia shouts, picking up some of the Canadian's luggage. "Come on in."

"Thanks." Canada walks in, following the Prussian to the living room, too tired to notice Austria's confusion.

"Vone, who zhe hell is he, and two, how did he capitalize zhe 'a' in 'Awesome'?" Austria asks to no one in particular.

"Zhat's Canada, and I'm glad I'm not zhe only one who noticed zhat capital A," France responds to the Austrian.

"So _zhat's_ Canada, but I'm still trying to figure how he managed to do zhat."

"You just have to Awesome," says Prussia, shrugging.

"Now it's a verb?" asks Hungary, apparently paying attention to their shenanigans. "My, is he full of surprises."

"Quite," France agrees.

"Anyvay," Austria says, hoping to change the subject, "Vhen do you zhink zhe ozhers vill come?"

"Well, I know America won't be here for a few more hours, and Britain texted me that he should be here any minute now," Prussia replies.

"Vait, Britain texted you und you didn't even _tell_ me?"

"You didn't ask." Austria was about to respond when another knock came from the door. "Who is it?"

"It's Britain," the blond country announces.

"Oh, let me get zhe door," Prussia announces, somehow managing to float across the room.

"Wait, how did he do zhat?" France asks Hungary, who merely shrugs.

"Good evening, eyebrows!" the Prussian says to the guest. "How are you?"

"Please don't call me that," England sighs, bowing his head, "and I'm fine, thank you very much. Can you possibly help me out here with my luggage?" He points at the luggage surrounding his feet.

"Vell, zhat's a lot of luggage. Definitely a lot more zhan Birdie.

"Who?"

"Canada."

"What's a Canada?" the Brit asks, genuinely confused. Prussia sighs in frustration.

"Hey Canada, can you come here?" Prussia shouts to the mentioned country. "I need your help with England's luggages."

"Um, sure," the Canadian whispers, his hold tightening on Kumajiro. He gets up walks toward the two by the door and looks at them. "So, where are the suitcases?"

"They're behind me," England points to the multiple pieces of luggage behind him. "I'll take a few pieces if you help me with the rest."

"Okay," Prussia and Canada say in agreement. After Canada puts Kumajiro on his shoulders, he helps the other two countries with England's luggage and brings it into the living room. "Is that it?"

"Ja," Prussia replies.

"Good," he whispers to himself, walking back to his spot, which was taken by England. Knowing that any effort to take back the spot would be worthless, he looks around for a spot and sees one between Hungary and France. He hastily takes it, seeing no harm in sitting there.

"Vell, vhat do ve do until America arrives?" Austria asks everyone.

"I don't know," Hungary shrugs, "maybe we could read some fanfiction. I've actually found some good stuff once you get past the ones with the poor grammar."

" _Erzsébet,_ " the Austrian sighs heavily, his left hand pinching the bridge of his nose.

"Wait, I thought her name was Elizabeta," France says thoughtfully.

"It is," Prussia replies saucily, "but he uses the Hungarian form when he is either mad or frustrated, if you catch my drift. Kesesesesese~!"

"Ohonhonhon!" Austria's head slowly raises, his eyes widened in shock and anger.

"What zhe hell is wrong vith you?" he shouts angrily.

"He isn't that wrong," Hungary shrugs, answering the question for Prussia. "I mean, he told the truth to an extent. It didn't give him the right to say it, but still."

"You're defending the demon douche who invaded my _vital regions?!_ Why?"

"I'm not defending him-"

"And there is more zhan one type of demon douche?" France interrupts Hungary. Austria facepalms at the Frenchman's question.

"You know vhat, I'm done here," Austria sighs frustratedly. "I need to go play some Rachmaninoff to vent." With that, he stomps away into another room, on the way to find his trusty piano.

"Damn," Prussia exhales, "that has to be the angriest I've seen him in a while."

"Oui," France agrees.

"So, should we still discuss the plans, or should we wait for Austria and America?" Canada asks quietly.

"Ve should probably wai-" Prussia is interrupted by the sound of the front door being kicked open.

"THE HERO IS HERE, BITCHES!" America shouts after kicking in the door. Everyone turns to him in shock, not expecting him to enter dramatically or even to show up this soon.

"Bruh," Prussia deadpans, "seriously? I thought you veren't supposed to come for a few more hours."

"Well, I was, but I used my hero powers to get out of the plane!"

"Define 'hero powers,' " England demands flatly.

"I demanded to the stewardesses to let me off off of the plane, especially since we had landed, but they were like, 'No you need to wait,' but then I said, 'Whatever bro, I'm the hero, I do what I want biatch!' However, they kept protesting, but I ignored them and I opened the emergency exit and hopped out like a boss!" America explained in a single breath.

"I could hear the grammatical mistakes from here," England mutters. "Also, how weren't you arrested for the trouble that you caused both in and out of the plane? I'm absolutely positive that you can't use the emergency exit like that."

"You're not," Austria growls darkly, taking everyone by surprise. "Also, vould you like to explain vhy in zhe _hell_ my front door is on the floor?"

"It is?" America asks dumbly. He looks at the floor a second later, only to see that the Austrian was right. "Um, it was there when I got here?" Austria's eyebrows furrow while everyone else facepalms at the stupidity of his excuse. "Okay, I may have kicked the door open. Besides, when did you even come in here?"

"That question is irrelevant."

"Yeah, I'm gonna have to agree with the priss here," Prussia says hesitantly.

"I zhought you ve're too 'awesome' to ever agree both me."

"Just be happy I'm actually agreeing vith you, priss."

"I'm sorry, but what does this have to deal with America being stupid exactly?" Hungary asks the bickering countries.

"Not a damn zhing, ma cherie*," France replies, only to receive a smack.

"I am not your 'cherie.' "

"I wish that you could all shut up," Canada mutters quietly.

"Hey, who said that?" America asks, hearing a voice.

"I did."

"Who are you?" Kumajiro asks.

"I'm Canadia."

"Oh, hey Canadia!" America shouts to his brother, who only tightens his hold on the polar bear.

"Il s'appelle Canada," France corrects the American.

"Whatever. So Austria, why did you come in here?"

"Zhis is my house, I an go vherever I vant in here," the Austrian answers flatly. "Also, I have to tell you zhat zhere is a search for you."

"Fuck."

"You seriously didn't zhink zhat you could get avay vith somezhing so heinous?"

"I might've..."

"Idiot," the countries whisper at once, looking at each other for their timing.

"Wait, can't you call off the search?" America asks desperately.

"I'll see vhat I can do," Austria replies after a short while.

"Yay! The hero has been saved!"

"Do you hear anything wrong with that statement by any chance?" England asks the American, who merely shakes his head.

"Vell, I'll try to cancel zhe search, zhough it von't be easy," Austria says, walking away from the scene.

"Vow, I don't zhink I've ever seen him be so considerate," Prussia says once the brunette was out of the room.

"Quite," Hungary agrees.

* * *

 _ **Translations:**_  
 _ **Elle est forte = She is strong**_  
 _ **Ma cherie = My dear**_  
 _ **Il s'appelle Canada = His name is Canada**_

 _ **Hey guys, I want to apologize for taking so long with this chapter. I hope it doesn't seem too all-over-the-place or rushed. I also want to thank you for your patience, views, reviews, favorites, follows, and your awesomeness!**_

 _ **I hope you enjoyed!**_


	4. The Austrian's Frustration

_**I don't own Hetalia or the following jokes. They belong to Hidekaz Himaruya and Steven Wright, respectively.**_

* * *

"I wonder what's taking him so long," America says thoughtfully, his thumb and index finger rubbing his chin.

"It's been two hours, and for something like this, the fact that it's _only_ been two hours is pretty good," England responds.

"But I'm bored!" The American receives unamused and disapproving glares from everyone in the room. "Hey, does Austria have WiFi?"

"It's veak, but ja," Prussia answers.

"Awesome!" That being said, America takes out his laptop and starts typing furiously.

"Wow, I haven't seen him type this fast since that time he used Google in 1942," England mutters disbelievingly.

"Attend, you can't Google stuff in 1942!" Canada states.

"I do what I want biatch!" America says automatically.

"Ugh, the déjà vu is real," England mutters, holding his head in his hand.

"Bros, I just found this really funny joke."

"Let's hear it," France says reasonably.

"Sure, but if it isn't funny, I'm gonna have to hit you with a frying pan," Hungary agrees, giving a condition with it.

"Fine," America says. He pauses to clear his throat, and in the most monotonous tone he could muster, he says, "I bought some powdered water, but I don't know what to add."

"C'est drôle*, but still not as funny as Charlie Chaplin," France chuckles.

"It was okay," Hungary says, "but not as funny as you said. Do you have any more?"

"Absolutely brah!" America replies loudly. Once more, he clears his throat and in a monotonous voice, he says, "Atheism is a nonprophet organization."

"Okay, that was kind of funny," England chuckles, ignoring the laughter coming from Canada and Prussia.

"Ugh, I'm so hyper," America continues, now droning. "I poured spot remover on my dog, and now he's gone."

"Bro, zhese are AWESOME!" Prussia manages to shout through his lashing fit. "I mean, not as awesome as me, but close enough. Are zhere any more for zhe Awesome Me to enjoy?"

"Why do you keep capitalizing the word 'Awesome'?" England asks out of the blue. "I mean, it's an adjective!"

"I'm using it as a title," Prussia shrugs. "I'm just zhat awesome. And how can you tell when a vord capitalized?"

"We all can, especially when you put such heavy emphasis on it."

"I use the same amount of emphasis on it ALL!"

"No you don't, and that sentence is proof."

"That is bullsh-"

"One tequila, two tequila, three tequila, floor," America says, using another Steven Wright joke. Immediately afterward, he clicks something on his laptop that begins to play music.

"Why are they in heels?" asks Hungary. She is currently looking at the screen, indeed seeing shirtless men in heels. "Wow, that muscle though. They look like they could put some yaoi to shame!"

"Quoi*?" Canada asks, walking over to see the screen. "Hey, isn't that that Ukranian band known for dancing in heels?"

"Yeah," America answers. "They're called Kazaky. Ukraine recommended this to me over YouTube."

"Damn, zhey could put some of our men to shame," Prussia mutters after walking over to look at the video. "Zhankfully, I am too awesome to be put shame by zhem."

"Uh, how can they put your men to shame if Prussia was dissolved in 1945?" Canada asks innocently.

"Who said that?" England inquires, looking around frantically.

"Canada," Prussia sighs. "Geez, you'd zhink zhe man who sees Flying Mint Bunnies vould not be so frightened by somezhing real."

"It's only _one_ Flying Mint Bunny, thank you very much!"

"Vhatever. Anyvay, to answer your question, Canada, I became East Germany."

"But you guys were reunited," Canada states.

"And it feels so good," America sings, his hands over his heart.

"Seriously?" England questions, facepalming.

"Yeah, bro."

"Git."

"If you're talking about America, zhen I agree," Austria says, walking back in with a map.

"So, did you call off the search?" America asks, his voice full of hope.

"Yes, but vith lots of trouble. My boss is not happy about it, but it's done. Also, I convinced him to have the café here."

"Great! Can we have it in Mariazell?"

"I guess, but due to it being a small city, zhere vill be a chance zhat humans vill come. Ve'll have to use our human names."

"Vow," Prussia breathes. "Luckily, mein human name is awesome, just like-"

"Nobody cares," England interrupts.

"You don't know zhat."

"Hey guys," America speaks up, typing on his computer furiously, "I think I found a grassy area right outside of Mariazell."

"Vhere is zhis 'grassy area' exactly?" Austria asks suspiciously, his eyes narrowing.

"All around the city." Austria facepalms from the answer.

"You could _at least_ be specific. Und not _all_ of it is grassland!"

"Brah, this is your city; you can choose the right place."

"As long as it's in or near Mariazell," England adds.

"Ugh, fine," Austria hesitantly agrees. "But if my Mariazell becomes curlier, I'm sending somevone after you."

"And who could zhat person be?" Prussia asks cockily.

"Zhat's not important."

"Actually, I would like to know aussi," France states.

"I hate you guys."

"I bet it's Hungary," America bets, "especially when she has her frying pan."

"Zhat makes sense," Prussia muses.

"It really does," Hungary seconds, receiving a surprised look from the Austrian. "Think about all the times I had to save you, including the times I was your servant."

"I'm sorry, but I zhought zhis vas about zhe café," Austria says, trying to change the subject.

"It was, but we all became curious," Canada replies, shrugging.

"I didn't even hear you speak."

"No one does."

"Vhatever, Canadia. Anyvay, does anyvone have a design for zhe building?"

"I do," America answers. "However, it's getting late. Is it cool if we can go to bed?"

"Can you at least show me the design?" Austria asks the American.

"I don't feel like loading it. I'll show it to you tomorrow."

"For all zhe zhings I've had to do for you today, it's the least you could do."

"Puh-lease?"

"Just show it to him," England demands, his patience getting thinner.

"Fine, fine," America caves. One more, he begins typing away on his computer and after a few minutes, a 3D design of their café appearing on his screen.

"Wow, zhat's nice," Austria admits, looking at the screen in awe. The other countries come to look as well, similar looks on their faces.

"I know, right?" the American replies, a smug look on his face. "So, when do you think we can start building the café?"

"Vhen do you plan to open it?"

"Next week," Canada answers for him.

"Who are you?" Kumajiro asks the Canadian.

"I'm Canadia."

"Okay, Canadia," Austria says hesitantly, "you do know zhat ve can't build somezhing zhat fast, right?"

"Don't worry; I'll just get the guys from 'Extreme Makeover: Home Edition,' " America replies, waving a hand dismissively.

"Vhat's 'Extreme Makeover: Home Edition'?"

"It was an American TV show that built homes for the needy in a week, but I think I could get them to give us a hand here. All I need is a ready location, and we'll be good."

"Fine, I'll give you a location tomorrow, and hopefully you can fly zhem out in a couple of days."

"Okay! Now, can we go to bed? I'm _bor-,_ I mean I'm _tired._ "

"Sure you did," England mutters.

"Shut up Limey."

* * *

"I can't believe that it's already time to reveal the café to the world," America says disbelievingly to France, Canada, and England. It is the day of the meeting in Vienna, and they are being forced to reveal their plan by Germany. Currently, they are standing outside the doors of the meeting room, preparing themselves even further to present their idea. "So, are you guys ready?"

"Yes, I believe so," England replies.

"Oui aussi," France follows.

"Yes," Canada replies quickly.

"Great! So, I have to wonder when we'll have to present," America ponders aloud.

"After I present zhe agenda for today's meeting," Germany says to the American, walking up to the blond quartet. Behind Germany is an exhausted Austria, who was holding the German's hand.

"Uh, dude, why is Austria holding your hand? Also, why are you presenting the agenda if Austria's hosting the meeting?" America asks the German.

"Vone, Austria is an incredibly slow walker und I practically had to drag him here. Two, ve _all_ know how disorderly zhe meetings go, especially vhen I'm not in charge or shouting 'shut up' to everyvone."

"Wait, Austria's a slow walker?" The American begins to laugh, causing a peeved look to grow on the Austrian's face.

"It isn't funny," Austria says defensively. "Besides, you walk slower than Germany!"

"But we all walk faster than you XD!" America says, laughing even harder.

"Wait a minute," England mutters to no one in particular, "did America actually say 'XD' for the sake of using an emoticon?"

"Probably," Canada replies, managing to hear the Brit over the American's laughter.

"Oh Jesus, was that a ghost?"

"No, it was Flying Mint Bunny," the Canadian replies sarcastically.

"You don't sound like Flying Mint Bunny."

"There's more of those things in England's imagination?" America asks, cutting into the conversation. "Wow brah, you've _really_ gone over the edge."

"I have not lost anything!"

"Je ne sais pas, Angleterre,*" France says uncertainly, receiving a dirty glare from the Brit. "I mean, you've never seemed to 'ave it togezher."

"At least I'm not some douche Frog!" With this, the rivals begin to bicker, America laughing at their fighting and Canada watching with nothing better to do. In the background, Germany and Austria look at the FACE family with unsurprised looks, the former's head in his hand.

"Dummkopfs," Germany mutters, "all of zhem."

"Indeed," Austria agrees. "So, should ve go in und leave zhem, or..."

"Ve can go, as soon as I shut zhem up." The German fixes his tie and walks up to France, England, and America with an irked face. He clears his throat right before he shouts: "VILL YOU DUMMKOPFS SHUT UP?" This grabs their attention. "Ve have a meeting to start soon, and you vill be presenting your project shortly after zhe meeting begins. Austria und I are going in; vill you be joining us or vill you stay out here un act like idiots?"

"We'll be going in, I guess," America says in a slightly disappointed tone. The others murmur in agreement.

"Good. Let's go." The five other countries follow, walking in a straight line with Austria somehow father away than he was before.

* * *

 _ **Translations:**_  
 _ **C'est drôle = It's funny**_  
 _ **Quoi? = What?**_  
 _ **Je ne sais pas, Angleterre = I don't know, England**_

 _ **Okay guys, I'm sorry that I haven't updated in a while. I've recently been working on a reading list and I've started to learn more about Eurovision. Why don't we have something like that in the Americas? I mean, that would be awesome!**_

 _ **Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this!**_


End file.
